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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108270">A Less Than Ideal Situation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie'>CosmicZombie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Decisions, Blood, Cas may or may not have a mild vampire kink, Dean has a Cas kink, First Kiss, Handcuffs, Humour, Idiots in Love, M/M, Making Out, Prompt Fill, Vampire!Dean (temporary)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:02:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If Dean weren’t currently so consumed with rampant bloodlust and the consequences of a longstanding sexuality crisis, he'd be fascinated by how hard Cas's heart is beating right now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Less Than Ideal Situation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For winchester-reload's prompt roulette, prompt #7: "Vampire!Dean having a Cas snack." </p><p>I have a terrible tendency to over edit and be super perfectionist about my fics, so I've taken this prompt roulette as an opportunity to write less self-consciously and focus on re-writing/editing as little as possible. Basically I want to start enjoying writing more and stop worrying about it being perfect all the time! </p><p>I don't know what it says about me that this is what I came up with... But it was a really fun prompt to write! I've taken a few liberties with vampire transformations for the sake of comedy.</p><p>I hope you enjoy! Feedback makes me so happy &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as situations go, it’s not ideal. For starters, Dean is – temporarily – a vampire. Which is a fairly stressful state of being, actually. His gums are still tender from where his brand-new fangs have made an appearance, and everything is so fucking <em>loud</em>.</p><p>But, even less ideal than the fact Dean is currently a member of the undead, is the fact he is alone, in his bedroom, with Cas. Which, if Dean is being totally honest with himself, is the kind of situation that would stress him out even if he weren’t currently experiencing the whole uncontrollable bloodlust thing. Because – not that he’d would admit this to anyone, especially Sam and his stupid, smug face – he actually already has enough urges when it comes to Cas without also wanting to, y’know, drain him of blood. Which is, incidentally, pretty much all he can think about right now.</p><p>Thankfully, Cas is sitting at a safe (tantalising) distance on a chair by the door. Less thankfully, he’s wearing uncharacteristically little. After helping Sam wrestle Dean into submission (read: handcuffing him to the bedframe), Cas had shed his trench coat and suit jacket, and he hasn’t put them back on. Instead, he’s sitting with his shirt sleeves rolled up, hair rumpled, blue gaze heavy and watchful. Which is just. Not helpful in any capacity.</p><p>Especially as – so far, at least – the transformation seems to have not only heightened Dean’s desire for blood, but, to his horror, any kind of desire. It’s only been a couple hours since he was bitten, but already Dean feels all rational thought fading in the face of how much he <em>wants</em>. Fleetingly, he wishes Sam had stayed to watch over him instead of leaving to track the vamp responsible for this whole mess. At least then Dean would only have had to worry about trying to suck his blood, not also trying to suck his dick. Cas – Cas is a different matter.</p><p>Because – okay – if Dean sometimes finds himself attracted to Cas under normal circumstances (i.e. being human), it’s nothing to how he feels right now. Cas looks fucking <em>irresistible</em> with his blue eyes dark and serious in the muted light of Dean’s bedroom, staring unflinchingly, intensely at Dean like he’s all that exists. And god – Dean can <em>hear</em> the rush of hot blood through Cas’s veins, feel the light, airy swirl of his grace like clear water. He can taste the soft clarity of it, intriguing, compelling, familiar. He realises it’s a stronger version of the smell he associates with Cas’s hugs, and can’t help wondering if that’s what Cas’s skin would taste like under his tongue. The thought draws him in almost as much as the blood pumping just beneath it.</p><p>Involuntarily, Dean groans darkly at the thought of biting into Cas’s skin, the ache for the blood he can hear humming through Cas’s veins almost overwhelming.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Cas’s voice is low and gravelly, the timbre of it sending shivers all through Dean. Cas is leaning forward in his chair, brow furrowed slightly as he regards Dean, wild-eyed and straining against his restraints.</p><p>“I can –” Dean bites off another groan as another wave of the smell of Cas’s hot, heady blood washes over him, even more intense than before. He clenches jaw against the fangs he can feel itching to descend further, hands curled into fists where he’s cuffed against the bedframe. “God. I can <em>taste</em> you, Cas.”</p><p>“My blood?” Cas asks, eyes on Dean, dark and heavy.</p><p>“Yes –” Dean spits out roughly, trying to drag his gaze from Cas because it’s only making him ache harder, the desire almost unbearable. Somewhere, hazily, he feels a vague sense of embarrassment at his desperation, the words tumbling from his mouth unbidden in a way he’s never allowed before, especially in front of Cas. “And your grace. How hard your heart is beating. Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans, twists in the restraints, “It’s so <em>loud</em>.”</p><p>Something in Cas’s expression flickers, but he doesn’t move. “You can sense my grace? Even through the scent of my blood?”</p><p>Swallowing, Dean nods. “It’s – distinctive,” he says, breathlessly. Cas’s heart seems to be beating harder than it was a few moments earlier, pumping through the quiet in a way that’s intoxicating. Dean hisses, clenching his fists against the overwhelming ache to be close to Cas, to sink his teeth into the skin he can see at the collar of Cas’s shirt, the curve of his collarbone, the exposed veins in his forearms. Dazedly, he tries to force himself to speak, vaguely hoping he’s not actually drooling all down his front with how much he <em>wants</em>. He’s not even sure vamps <em>can</em> drool. “I didn’t realise I already knew it,” he grits out, watching Cas through hooded eyes, aware that he’s saying too much, but too far gone now to care, “It’s just a stronger version of how you smell normally.”</p><p>“And how is that?” Cas asks, eyes darkened. He’s leaning forwards, too close even though he’s still all the way across the room. Dean can <em>taste </em>him, the rapid, hard thud of Cas’s heart in his chest deafening, faster than before.</p><p>A sudden thrill washes over Dean as he realises that Cas is affected by this conversation in some way, affected by seeing Dean like this, aching for Cas more openly than he’s ever dared. Even amidst the dark lust slowly taking him over, the blurring, disorientating new sensations, Dean feels hope well up, as clear and pure as sunlight.</p><p>“I don’t –” Dean hisses and yanks instinctively at his restraints as Cas swallows visibly, drawing attention to the pulse hammering in his throat. “<em>Fuck</em>, Cas. Fucking irresistible, okay? So fucking irresistible I can’t even think, just,” Dean groans, giving up on trying to conceal what he’s been trying to push down for goddamn years. His human insecurities have faded to irrelevance in the rush and heat of the desire burning through him, the venom slowly percolating his bloodstream. “Please, Cas,” he tugs at his cuffs again, feeling the muscles in his arms straining. He doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for, he just feels dizzy with want. Bloodlust and years of pent-up, unresolved, quiet longing.</p><p>“Irresistible?” Cas’s brow is furrowed, expression unreadable. His pulse is throbbing through the space between them, hot and wet, and god, Dean wants him.</p><p>He’s too far gone, the venom too deep in his veins to feel the kind of humiliation he might have done before. All the reasons he’s kept quiet over the years seem utterly meaningless. There’s only one, overpowering through in his undead little brain: get Cas to come closer. Not because he’s going to drink his blood, of course. Dean does still have some self-control. He just – needs Cas to be closer.</p><p>“Yes,” Dean growls, deliberately darkening his gaze and feeling another thrill go through him at the way Cas’s pulse unmistakably picks up in response. If Dean weren’t currently so consumed with rampant bloodlust and the consequences of a longstanding sexuality crisis, he'd be fascinated by how much is going on in Cas's body without a single external sign he's affected. He looks as serious and stoic as ever – composed, quiet. The only giveaway is how his pupils have darkened, almost as black as Dean’s. It makes Dean wonder how many times in the past Cas has been just as affected as he has been by their interactions, and he’s just never noticed, has been too occupied with his own denial.</p><p>Dean closes his eyes against the agonising ache throbbing through him. He can feel the heat of Cas’s blood increasing, the rush of it louder, hotter. It’s unbearable.</p><p>“Your blood is telling me things, Cas,” Dean groans, overcome by the heat of it, so close. When he opens his eyes again, Cas is staring at him with barely disguised want that does absolutely nothing to abate his own. He feels his stomach somersault, and god he’s so screwed. He’s always been screwed when it comes to Cas, but nothing could have foreseen this (this: being bitten by a vamp masquerading as a kindergarten teacher, consequently being handcuffed to a bed, and left alone with the person he’s spent the last five years pining over standing vigil).</p><p>“What things?” Cas’s eyes are impossibly dark, eternal, devasting blue.</p><p>“How much you want to come over here right now,” Dean whispers, low and seductive. He can feel his fangs descending a little at the prospect of Cas’s soft, supple skin, the heat of it under his mouth. “How much it affects you, seeing me <em>want</em> you.”</p><p>“You only want my blood,” Cas manages, sounding breathless. “Not me.”</p><p>“Can’t I want both?” Dean groans, straining at his confines again.</p><p>Cas’s expression is unreadable, and he seems to gather himself, shut down a little before saying, “You only feel like that because you’re a vampire right now, Dean.”</p><p>“No –” Dean says roughly, shaking his head, “That makes me want your blood. It doesn’t make me want <em>you</em>, Cas,” he swallows, darkened gaze following the mirrored movement in Cas’s own throat and he lets out a soft, involuntary moan. “God – it’s – everything is so much louder, like this,” he says breathlessly, “I can’t – Cas – please.”</p><p>Cas’s gaze is anguished, his hands curled into fists. “Dean, don’t.”</p><p>“Don’t what?” Dean twists against his confines, beside himself. Cas’s heartbeat resounds through the silence between them, faster than before.</p><p>“Just – don’t,” Cas is the one to close his eyes now, fists clenched at his sides. He looks agonised, as tortured as Dean feels. “Don’t trust me to say no to you.”</p><p>“Please, Cas,” Dean breathes, desperate. He can’t think about anything except how much he wants Cas closer. Although he can feel the venom burning beneath his skin, making him crave the heat of Cas’s blood, Dean also just longs for <em>Cas</em>, the way he always has, the way he’s always tried to convince himself he hasn’t. The transformation is making everything louder, amping it up until it’s all Dean can hear. He’s surprised to find how little it scares him. Maybe it’s the venom. Or maybe it’s just the relief of not being able to ignore it anymore.</p><p>Cas is looking at him, intent as always, anguished blue. Like he’s the one trapped and not Dean. His heart is thumping, reverberating through the room, quickened, hopeful, almost. A beat Dean recognises all too well.</p><p>“Please,” he murmurs, quieter, “Cas. I can hear your heart.”</p><p>Something passes across Cas’s gaze, eternal blue and blown pupils like supernovas, and desire entirely unrelated to bloodlust slams into Dean, leaving him breathless. He groans, strains desperately against his restraints, watching helplessly as Cas gets to his feet and approaches agonisingly slowly. Cas’s expression is torn, dazed, as though he’s still somewhere trying to make up his mind without accepting that his body already has. Closer like this, Dean can taste the clear, pure swirl of his grace, the hot rush of blood. The combination is intoxicating. Fleetingly, he can’t help thinking about how if he wasn’t tied up it would be so easy to just take one bite, one tiny nibble – but no. He wouldn’t. Dean swallows determinedly, doesn’t take his eyes from Cas.</p><p>As though in a trance, Cas sits down slowly on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Tentatively, reaches out, places a hand on Dean’s thigh, his palm warm and solid and sending a jolt of lust through Dean.</p><p>He lets out a noise that’s embarrassingly like a growl, straining against the handcuffs. “Cas,” he hisses, new instincts running wild. He can feel his fangs itching at his gums, but the nervous anticipation of his heart thumping in his chest is stronger. Cas is still just out of reach, his hand like a brand against Dean’s thigh. Dean can feel the throb of Cas’s pulse through the contact, an overwhelming rush of heat.</p><p>“You know I can’t come closer,” Cas whispers, eyes heavy and anguished.</p><p>“You said that a moment ago,” Dean searches Cas’s gaze, voice low, “And now you’re here. Please, Cas. I need you close, I need – I promise I won’t go all twilight on your ass,” he throws out desperately, hoping with everything he has that’s true. He doesn’t entirely trust the pointy little fangs that have definitely grown even more in the last few moments – but he trusts what he feels for Cas. Always. Above anything. “I just – I need you, Cas.”</p><p>Cas’s expression flickers. “Dean – you wouldn’t be saying the things you’re saying if you weren’t in the early stages of transformation.”</p><p>“Maybe not,” Dean admits, breathless, “But I’m glad I am. I never thought I’d find myself grateful to a goddamn bloodsucker, but here we are.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Cas’s eyes are guarded; Dean thinks he catches a glimpse of hope.</p><p>“You don’t know what a relief it is to not care about any of my stupid hang ups anymore, to just be able to say what I want without giving a damn about any of that shit,” Dean tugs at the cuffs, lets out a groan of frustration. “And,” he whispers, darker, “You like me like this.”</p><p>A distinct flush appears on Cas’s cheeks. “It gives me no pleasure to watch you suffering.”</p><p>“Then come here and stop me from suffering,” Dean counters quietly, holding Cas’s gaze.</p><p>They look at each other for a moment that is all heat, and then Cas moves up the bed in an easy, fluid move, suddenly straddling Dean, pinning him with his thighs. He holds Dean’s gaze unflinchingly, reaches out and places his hands over Dean’s cuffs. And – yeah, that’s pretty much all Dean can take. Before he quite knows what he’s doing, he surges forward and captures Cas’s mouth in a searing, urgent kiss. Cas lets out a muffled sound that might be surprise, but then a lower sound deep in in his chest as melts into it, mouth hot and silken soft, hands coming up to cup Dean’s face with a kind of desperate tenderness that sets Dean’s heart racing even faster.</p><p>For a moment, Dean forgets he currently has a set of fangs and isn’t technically alive, and is just filled to the brim with pure, sunshine-warm happiness. <em>Cas is kissing him</em>.</p><p>But – suddenly, Dean becomes very aware of the delicious, hot pulse hammering under the skin in Cas’s neck. He can’t quite help breaking the kiss to suck on it, just gently. He’s not going to bite or anything, really. Cas lets out a low, beautiful groan and clutches Dean closer, rocking their hips together – and, god. Dean sucks harder, hands clenched into fists where he’s still cuffed. He can’t resist scraping his teeth lightly against the warm skin, groans roughly at the agonising temptation of the warm, wet blood underneath it. Cas lets out a low gasp, fists clenched in the front of Dean’s t-shirt, and – suddenly, okay, that’s about as much as Dean’s newfound bloodlust can take. He doesn’t mean to do it, he really doesn’t, but before Dean can stop himself, he finds his shiny new fangs sinking into the warm, smooth skin of Cas’s jugular. Immediately, hot, wet blood fills his senses and oh god, it’s bliss, it’s oblivion, it’s - </p><p>“Dean?”</p><p>Dean wrenches away with a possessive, vampiric hiss to see Sam standing in the doorway, a small vial in his hands. His eyes swivel from Dean’s kiss-bruised lips, visible hard-on, and protruding fangs to the bloody wound on Cas’s neck. Dimly, through the haze of temporarily abated bloodlust, Dean feels a wave of humiliation.</p><p>“For the love of –” Sam closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath before opening them again. “If I’d known all you needed to finally act on your raging angel crush was a brief spell as one of the undead, I’d have had you turned years ago. Jesus Christ.” He looks pale and vaguely nauseated, and Dean is suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that Cas is still straddling him.  </p><p>Like Dean said, as far as situations go, it’s not ideal. But, he thinks, meeting the quiet elation in Cas’s blue gaze, maybe that doesn’t matter.</p>
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